Entwined
by the.eye.does.not.SEE
Summary: She has her memories to keep her warm, and that will have to be enough for now. She only hopes he has them too, and hasn't forgotten what was once between them, what is still between them, and what will probably never fade. Mark/Lexie "Entwined.


_**Author's Note:**__** So I just bought the Grey's soundtrack this morning, and I've been listening to "Entwined" by Tim Myers all day. (My playcount on iTunes is up to 60 so far). For those who don't know, it's the song that was played last season during the scene with Mark, Lexie, and Sofia. It's such a beautiful song, and this is what came out of it: 11 vignettes of Mark and Lexie. I put the full lyrics at the top, using each of them as a prompt. If you have the song, I suggest listening to it on a loop while you read (which is what I did while I wrote) or play it once before you start. Now that the album's out, you can probably find the whole song easily on YouTube or something. Anyway-Enjoy!**_

_**. . .**_

_Something in your eyes, say you're falling in_

_You're a part of me; you're under my skin_

_Every piece of me has felt so incomplete_

_Til you came into my life_

_** . . . **_

_You and I…_

_Are so entwined._

_I always knew…_

_That I was made…_

_For you._

_**. . .**_

_Lover, don't you know, you're so beautiful_

_You're inside my heart; you're inside my soul_

_When I see you move and laugh the way you do, I am melting _

_into you_

_**. . .**_

_You and I…_

_Are so entwined._

_I always knew…_

_That I was made…_

_For you._

_**. . .**_

_. . ._

**_Something in your eyes, say you're falling in_**

"Little Grey, it was just one night."

"Yeah," she replies quickly, hurriedly. Too hurriedly, he notices, inwardly wincing. Letting her down won't be easy. A second later he frowns, wondering why he cares. _She's a one-night stand. Who gives a crap? _The answer comes immediately. _I give a crap. Cause it was good. _"No, no, yeah, I get it," she continues, rambling as she always does. "I get it." She shifts her head from side to side, a comical nervous grin on her mouth. "No strings attached." She takes a step back. "We're good. Won't make the same mistake twice."

"Mistake?" He questions with raised eyebrows.

She blushes immediately. "I—I—I meant it won't happen again. You know, I, um, I won't show up at your door or—or…" Her voice lowers. "Or take off my clothes or anything. I just… I won't. So don't worry about it."

"I'm not worried."

"Okay." She takes another step back. "Right. Well… I should go."

He nods, watching as she walks away. When she reaches the end of the hall, she glances back, expecting to see him disappear around a corner as well, but his eyes are following her. She catches his gaze for a second before continuing on her way, and there's something within his blue eyes that makes her question their conversation.

Smiling to herself yet feeling like an idiot, Lexie thinks that maybe it wasn't just one night after all. She tries to dismiss the thought as ludicrous, but quickly remembers that look in his eyes. She hugs her chart to her chest anyway, and knowing she's setting herself up for something awful, thinks again that maybe it wasn't just one night between them.

_. . ._

**_You're a part of me; you're under my skin_**

"I tried to stay away from you," Mark mutters against her lips as her hands begin lifting the hem of his shirt above his chest.

"Didn't work too well, huh?" She grins, separating their lips as he throws his shirt over his head.

"Not at all," he replies, stepping forward and kissing her against the wall of the small, dark on-call room.

"What made you come up to me at Joe's?" Lexie asks when they break apart for oxygen. "Why then?" Her fingers trace over the muscles of his chest. "Why now?"

"Then, because I couldn't get you out of my head, and now…" He grins, his hands rising from her waist to her chest. "Now, because I still can't get you out of my head."

"I see I'm spending a lot of time in your mind," Lexie murmurs, sighing into his touch as she kisses his neck. "And not enough with you."

"I only have so much willpower," he excuses. "But I like to exercise it when I can."

"So we're playing this by ear?" She asks as she kisses his own ear.

"Maybe," he replies, his lips skimming across her collarbone. "Or maybe I'll be here at every lunch break."

"_Every_ lunch break?" Lexie asks, trying to contain her amusement.

"Don't get ahead of yourself," he advises, picking her up in one fluid movement and walking slowly to the collection of empty cots. "Let's see how today goes first."

_. . ._

**_Every piece of me has felt so incomplete til you came into my life_**

"I'm sorry about Derek," she whispers softly as they walk down the street.

"Derek?" Mark asks, glancing over to her.

"He's still not at work." She frowns, looking him over with a guilty gaze. "And he beat you up."

"Who's to say _I _didn't beat _him_ up?" Mark asks.

"Still…" She sighs deeply, letting her guilt amplify the sound. "I'm sorry you had to go through that for me. It—it wasn't necessary, and—"

"Let, we've been through this," Mark cuts in. "It was necessary. It was going to happen sometime."

"But it didn't have to be then. If you'd waited—"

"I didn't want to wait anymore," Mark replies, staring straight ahead. "I'm done with the waiting and the hiding."

"You are?" She questions quietly.

He looks over at her. "Yeah. I am. He's my best friend; he's always been there. So he'll always be there. You and I aren't going to stop Derek and I from being friends."

"Say that to your broken hand," Lexie mutters dejectedly.

"It's not broken," he dismisses. "Just sore. And besides," he adds, stopping as they near an intersection. "I told you it was worth it."

"But it—"

"Lex," he cuts in. "It was _worth it_, okay? You're worth it, okay?"

"I'm not saying I don't appreciate that, but… why?"

"Why?" He smiles down at her, exhaling in amusement. "Lex, it was worth it, because—for the first time—I feel happy."

"You've always been happy."

"Not like this."

"But—"

"Little Grey." He stares at her until she closes her mouth. "Yes, I have been happy. I'm a pretty happy guy. But I haven't been happy like _this_…Ever. I've never had this. I never thought I could be happy like this, even with an almost-broken hand and a screwed up face and no best friend." He looks down at her, ignoring the fact that they're now allowed to cross the street. "Want to know why?" He asks. Lexie doesn't reply, so he answers his own question. "It's because of you."

"I haven't done—"

"You've made me happy," he corrects before she can even get the words out. "That's something." He sighs softly. "To me, that's everything."

After a few seconds, her lips curve up at him, a smile on her face. "Really?" She asks quietly.

"Really," he replies. He takes her hand, turning them towards the crosswalk. As they cross the street, he whispers in her ear. "I'm glad you came along."

Lexie looks down at his words, but he knows she's smiling. She squeezes his hand as she speaks, and he ignores the pain it causes. "I'm glad you came along too."

_. . ._

**_Lover, don't you know; you're so beautiful_**

"You look…great."

She laughs, and the sound does something to quick his heartbeat and bring a smile to his face even though he's exhausted from working almost as long as she had. He's lying on the couch, looking across the small room to see her walk through the door.

"Oh, yeah, I look _great_," she jokes, setting her purse and key card to the hotel room on a nearby chair. She rolls her eyes, shaking her head at him. He gets up a moment later, crossing the small room. "I just got off a thirty-six-hour shift and—" She turns around, breaking off and catching her breath slightly when she finds him standing so close. He was across the room, lying on the couch, just seconds ago.

"I'm serious," he replies, his voice quiet and slightly rough. His hand twitches by his side, as if wanting to reach up and touch her face, but instead he just leans forward. He takes in her pale complexion, large brown eyes, faded lipstick, and dark hair sloppily pulled into a ponytail at the nape of her neck. On anyone else, it would look horrible. On anyone else, they'd have to take a shower and get a couple days' sleep to look presentable again. But not with her. "You look beautiful."

After a moment of indecision, she smiles up at him. "Thanks. That's nice of you to say."

"You seemed to be forgetting. I thought I'd remind you."

"Well," she smiles, looking him up and down. "You don't look so bad yourself."

_. . ._

**_You're inside my heart_**

"So that's what you call this? Dating?" Derek asks, looking over to his friend with a tone that say he's been down this road before.

"I guess," Mark replies reluctantly. "I'd call it something more than that, but I don't have a word for it."

Derek grins exaggeratedly over at his best friend. "Aw, are you two soul mates?" He coos.

"I didn't say soul mates," Mark replies tersely.

"Yeah, well, you said 'more than dating.'"

"So 'more than dating' equals soul mates in your book?"

"Apparently it does in yours," Derek notes.

Mark rolls his eyes, sighing as he looks away. "Whatever," he mutters, getting ready to leave to his patents.

"Oh, what?" Derek laughs. "Don't be a baby. You're—" He grins. "Wait, you're not _in love _with her or something, are you?"

Mark bites back his rude response, crossing his arms at his best friend, and feeling incredibly defensive for some reason. "So what if I am?"

"Oh," Derek smiles, his shoulders shaking with laughter. "This will be fun to watch."

"Having human emotions is amusing to you?" Mark asks, stopping in the hallway at his turnoff. "That makes sense," he calls, heading down the hallway. "Cause you don't have any!"

"Ha," Derek laughs back. "_Right_. Don't wait to long to tell her!" He calls, only half-mocking, down the hall.

_. . ._

**_You're inside my soul_**

"Mark."

"Yeah?" He asks, turning his head to look over to her.  
>"Can I ask you a question?" She's lying down in bed, clutching a pillow beneath her head, and looking up at him with her lips pursed in hesitation.<p>

"You just did."

"What's going on?"

"What do you mean?"

"Just now…" Her eyes shift between them. "What just happened. What was that?"

He stares at her, trying to look confused. "Isn't it obvious what it was? We're lying here, naked, and—"

"No, it's just…" she sighs, not knowing how to explain it. "You just seemed so…" She fishes for the right word. "Intense, is all. While we were…you were really focused, is all I wanted to say."

"And that's a bad thing," he concludes.

"No, no, it's a good thing. It's just…" She pauses, staring down at the bedspread before meeting his eyes. Hers have become a darker brown in the darkness, but he can still discern lighter flecks within her gaze. He can still see a light flush over her cheeks and neck. She reaches out, halfway between then, and lets her hand rest on the rumpled sheets. "Is there something you need to tell me?" She asks quietly.

He stares at her for a moment, knowing this is his chance, but he lets it slip by. _No use ruining a perfect moment. _"No," he smiles, putting his hand atop hers. "I don't have anything to say."

She smiles, but he can still see the nervousness behind her gaze, and he's incredibly relieved he didn't tell her the truth. Who knows how she would have taken it. "Okay, then. If you're sure."

"I'm sure," he replies, shifting to lie beside her. She scoots towards him, resting her head on his shoulder. He puts a hand on her arm, rubbing her skin softly, and wondering when the right time will be and hoping he didn't just miss his only opportunity.

_. . ._

**_When I see you move and laugh the way you do_**

He's watching her from across the room, chuckling at the way her arms and legs flail in what is supposed to be called 'a dance.' As if she knew he was thinking about her, she looks over a second later, catching his eye with a giant grin.

"Come on!" She shouts through the throng of people. He shakes his head, still chuckling, as she breaks away from her friends to join him. She takes his hand, and before he knows it, Mark's being led onto the dance floor at Izzie and Alex's wedding. "Come on," she says again, shouting over the music. "Dance with me!"

"What you're doing can hardly be called dancing," he shouts back with a smirk, earning him a rather hard punch in the shoulder.

"I _am_ dancing!" She argues. "Come on, do it with me!"

He shakes his head, continuing to stand still within the large group of pulsing and shouting bodies. "I can't dance," he excuses.

"Oh, we both know that's a lie," Lexie grins. "I've _seen _you dance! I've danced _with _you, too!"

"Yeah, that was slow dancing," he shouts over the music. "This is not slow."

"Come on!" She calls again, which he is rapidly realizing has become her only argument. So he shakes his head for a second, steps forward, and then mimics her movements, flailing legs and arms in all. Lexie almost falls to the floor laughing.

"What?" Mark protests. "I was just doing what you were doing!"

"Well—" She manages between fits of hysteria. "—don't! You looked—" She bursts out laughing again. "—idiotic!"

"Oh, look in the mirror then."

"Stop it, you jerk!" Lexie laughs, punching him again. "Dance with me!"

"I can slow dance," Mark replies. "That's it."

"Well… Fine." She steps forward, stopping her spastic yet entertaining movements. "Slow dance with me, then."

"This is not a slow song."

"It'll change," she excuses, putting her hands on his sides. "Come on."

"We'll look stupid. Slow-dancing to a fast song," he mutters.

"It won't be stupid," she smiles, taking his hand and placing it on her lower back as she takes his other in hers. She grins at him, giggling slightly before kissing his downturned lips. "It'll be romantic. Cheer up."

Mark rolls his eyes at her, but pulls her close nonetheless. "Fine," he mutters. "If it'll make you happy."  
>She smiles widely up at him, knowing she's won. "It'll make me very happy."<p>

_. . ._

**_I am melting into you_**

"I love you."

She says it softly, and, he gets the impression, with fear. As if she was scared he wouldn't say it back. As if she was scared he wouldn't feel the same way. He looks over to her, taking in her wide and half-frightened eyes as she lies beside him on the bed.

"Lex…"

"No. Don't," she whispers. "I just…" She licks her lips, taking a futile breath. "I just had to say it. I love you. And I—I have for a long time now. I—I didn't want to say it before in, in case you—"

"Hey, don't worry about it," he interrupts softly. He leans forward, staring her in the eyes before he speaks. "I love you too."

Her expression wobbles until he's almost sure she's about to cry. "R—really?" She manages after a moment, her voice choked and almost unnaturally inaudible. "You do?"

"Yes." He stares at her for a moment before moving towards her and kissing her lips. She meets him halfway, sitting up so they can reach each other easier. Lexie sighs a moment later, trying to calm her body as she feels the both of them heat up beside one another.

Minutes later, their respective breathing has sped up, their limbs wrapping and tugging and pulling each other closer. Barely catching her breath, Lexie pulls him close for a final time, and as they join together, her body gravitates towards his. He holds her in his arms, letting each and every aspect of their separate yet familiar bodies line up perfectly. He loses himself within her, and she loses herself with him, feeling her body almost disappear.

To Lexie, it feels as if the only things tethering her to this earth are his arms around her and his voice in her ear. His words answer hers, line for line, letter for letter, and minute after minute.

. . .

**_You…and I…are so…entwined._**

"I'd like to return this."

The young salesgirl looks up, her eyes widening for a moment. Mark realizes he must've startled her; he's probably the only person in the shop. "Re—return?" She asks, quickly hiding the crossword puzzle she'd been meticulously solving into a drawer beneath the display counter in front of her before straightening up. "Um, I can help you with that. What are you returning?"

Though the small box is in his hand, Mark takes a moment, pretending he misplaced it and fishes for it. A second later, he realizes it won't make a difference if he hands it over now or in ten years. It's as good as gone already.

"This," he replies, setting a small, black ring box on the counter. He tries not to watch as the salesgirl's face falls, but somehow he focuses on her, taking in all her sympathy and pity. He knows he won't get it from anyone else. For a split-second, he realizes that she's pretty. She has straight blonde hair, and that kind of small body that's skinny and attractive without being too short. _She's pretty. _He almost smiles. He hasn't looked at anyone since—

He swallows, closing his eyes, and while aligning hers with the face that appears behind his eyelids, he picks out a thousand of her different faults, none of which would have mattered to him a second ago. She's too short, too thin. Her teeth and hair are too straight. Her eyes are blue. Her hair is blonde. She's young, and not in a good way. She's another faulty version of _her_—someone he knows he'll spend the rest of his life comparing every other woman to. She isn't her. No one is her.

"Is there… a specific reason for returning it?" The saleswoman asks gently. Her eyes are widened, and, he realizes, full of sympathy. No doubt asking this question is just a courtesy of the jeweler. She already knows what's happened.

"No reason," he replies after a moment.

"We just…" The girl pauses, and from the way she's biting her lip and staring at him, Mark can tell she's incredibly uncomfortable. "Was it… a problem with the ring? The cut, or—or the size? Because we can—"

"There was no problem with the ring," he assures her. "It's a great ring. Things just—things just didn't work out."

"Oh." The girl's voice is quiet, hushed, as she takes the small box in her hand. He watches as she runs the pad of her thumb over the soft covering, just as he used to do.

"So?" He asks after a moment, shoving his hands in his pockets. "We're good?"

"Um, um, yeah. That's—it's fine. It's returned. We can return your check in the mail, once my boss looks it over."

"Thanks."

Without another word, he steps away, forgetting her face immediately, and heads out into the bright spring morning. He half-expects to run into _her_, but he knows that would only happen if he were a character in a movie or TV show and not a part of real life. If this were a movie, she'd be watching from a street corner or a coffee shop down the road. She'd be in a passing car or just passing by. And she'd falter to a stop, doing a double take when she saw him set a small box on the counter of a jeweler for returning. Anyone who saw would know the story, but she would know the _real _story. And she'd come running back and there'd be a happy reunion and everything would fade to dark and the credits would commence.

He sighs, heading down the street and forcing himself not to look back. This isn't a movie and she isn't there. There will be no reunion and no happy ending.

_. . ._

**_I always knew that I was made for you._**

Lexie Grey wakes with a jolt, and though it's springtime, her body feels chilled to the core. She sits bolt upright in bed, somehow breathless. She swallows, but upon finding her mouth dry, leaves the room and heads quickly down the steps to the kitchen. She isn't the only one there. Meredith is standing by the fridge and there's a bottle for Zola in her hand. She looks up when her sister walks in, surprised not to be the only one awake.

"Bad dream?" Meredith asks, heading past her to the door.

Lexie doesn't reply, and Meredith doesn't wait. She leaves the room, walking up to the bed, and Lexie wishes she had the guts to be honest with her sister. But she doesn't. But Lexie whispers the truth to herself anyway, just to hold onto the feeling she had within the dream.

"It was wonderful," she mumbles to herself, grabbing a glass and heading for the sink. Though she doubts downing cold water will clear the dream from her mind, it's still worth a try.

. . .

_"I want to ask you something."_

_ "Mmhm?" Lexie mutters, only half listening as she finishes to work through the last couple paragraphs of a book she's reading. Mark's voice comes from behind her, but she doesn't move from her spot. She's reclining against the arm of the couch, her knees propped up before her, and her books resting against them._

_ "You might want to look at me."_

_ "I'm reading something, Mark," she replies without following his suggestion._

_ "Well, this is important."_

_ "Can't it wait five seconds? There are two more sentences in this paragraph and then I'll give you all the attention your needy little self desires."_

_ "Fine," he replies. She can hear a smile in his voice even though he's trying to act annoyed. "Wait if you want," he adds. "But I'm telling you you'll regret it."_

_ "We'll see," Lexie mutters, never losing focus from her book. A couple seconds later, she snaps it shut. "Okay," she says, turning around to him and crossing her legs beneath her. "What did you want—" Her heart stops along with her voice, and she feels her whole body tense as she stares down at him. Her mouth runs dry and her stomach clenches in anxiety when sees he's only supporting himself with one knee. Her eyes are unable to blink when she sees what he's holding in his hand._

_ "I told you you'd regret waiting," he smiles from the floor._

_ "You're proposing," she manages, still staring open-eyed and open-mouthed._

_ He smiles. "I am."_

_ "Marriage."_

_ "That is usually what 'proposing' means."_

_ "To me."_

_ "Yes, you."_

_ "…Why?"_

_ "What, did you really not see this coming?" He asks with a laugh._

_ Lexie shakes her head numbly, her mind racing. She can't remember one time when he'd alluded to this since they'd gotten back together at Christmas. She can't remember one time when it seemed like he wanted to further things so seriously between them since that kiss at Joe's. When she returns to the present, she sees that her boyfriend's confident exterior had eroded quite a bit. But he still only looks a fraction of how nervous she feels. She can see now that he'd been waiting for a ready answer. He'd been waiting for her to see it and shout 'yes.' He thought this was already all said and done._

"_No," she whispers, licking her lips. "I never saw this coming."_

_ "R—really?" He asks hesitantly, his eyes now staring wide at hers. "Never? You never thought we'd—"_

_ "Oh, Mark, of course I did," she assures him quickly. "I—I've thought about it, but I n—never…" She finds herself smiling, and somehow, her stomach's settled. "I never thought you'd…" She shakes her had, unable to explain. "I don't know."_

_ "You never thought I'd ask?" He guesses._

_ "Well…"_

_ He smiles. "I'm asking."_

_ She smiles back, and it isn't tentative at all this time. "I know."_

_ "So?"_

_ "So," she replies. "Ask."_

_ He looks down, smiling to himself before meeting her eyes again. He begins slowly. "Lexie, I—"_

_ "Wait," she interrupts._

_ "I was in the middle of asking," he grumbles good-naturedly._

_ "No, no," she smiles, stepping forward. "Come on," she says, taking his hand and pulling him upward. He glances to the floor behind him as she helps him to his feet._

_ "What?" He asks with a grin. "You don't like me down on my knees?"_

_ She smiles, stepping towards him so there's not an inch of space between their bodies. "No, I prefer you right here." She reaches up, her fingers skimming along the straight line of his jaw gently. "I like you right in front of me, where I can look you in the eye when you ask me to be your wife."_

_ Mark looks down, and from the way she can see him hold back a grin, Lexie gets the idea that he loves hearing the word 'wife' almost as much as she does._

_ "So I can ask now?" He asks, somehow moving forward and standing closer to her thought there's barely a hair's breadth between them already. She nods her approval. Mark and Lexie stare at each other for a moment, finding that there's no fear or anxiety left in either pair of eyes. There's just glorious acceptance and hope for the future._

_ "Lexie Grey," he begins again, his voice much softer this time. She reaches up at the sound of her name, letting her hand settle on the back of his neck and draw his face towards hers. Their eyes and lips are just centimeters apart now. "Lex," he murmurs quietly as she stares directly into his eyes. While speaking, the motion of his lips causes theirs to touch for just the briefest moment. They both force themselves to hold back, to let him get the words out and to let her answer. And a second alter, he asks. "Will you marry me?"_

_ He can feel her breath leave her lips in a warm sigh, ghosting over his own lips. But still, their bodies remain from being joined; their eyes stay locked together._

_ "I'd love to," she replies, her dark brown eyes taking in his light blue ones in their captivating entirety. "Yes, I'd love to," she manages to repeat before his lips meet hers and one of his hands reaches up behind her head to pull her into the kiss. As if she'd needed encouragement. The second his lips had met hers, Lexie had pulled him forward as well, their bodies joining together at each contour. They break the kiss after a few moments, wrapping their arms around each other and holding on tight._

_ "I love you," she whispers softly into his ear. She can feel him hug her tighter in response before pulling back and holding the small box in his hand._

_ "Want to see?"_

_ Lexie nods, watching as he flicks the small box open._

"_Oh, Mark," she whispers, stealing a breath. In that moment, she finally understands some women's instinct to gasp at the sight of an engagement ring. Especially if their ring resembles the one about to take residence on her left hand. "It's beautiful. It's…" She trails off, not knowing how to describe the masterfully crafted ring within its satin box. One large, square diamond rests in the center of the white-gold band, flanked on either side by miniature replicas. Smaller diamonds trail down the sides of the ring, stopped about halfway down. The effect is so stunning, Lexie finds she has no idea what to say._

_ "I was hoping you'd like it," he murmurs._

_ "I love it," she replies. Her eyes flicker up to his. "Can I…"_

_ He smiles at her hesitance. "Of course." He tugs the small piece of jewelry carefully from the box, holding it between his thumb and index finger as he puts the now-empty box back in his pocket. She holds up her left hand and he takes it tenderly with his right, steadying it as he holds the ring in his right hand. He glances up at her, possibly giving her a last chance to say 'no,' but she simply shakes her head. He can see tears forming in the corners of her eyes._

_ Lexie looks down, watching as he slides the ring onto the forth digit of her hand. He moves it slowly, and they both watch as it passes over both knuckle joints smoothly before coming to a rest just before her third knuckle._

"_I love you," she whispers softly, staring at it. "I love you so much."_

_ "I love you too," he murmurs, taking her hand in his and interlocking their fingers together. He leans forward, resting their foreheads together._

_ "I don't want things to change between us," she whispers quietly. "I want us to be us."_

_ "Things won't change," he promises, his voice just as quiet. "We'll still be us." He can't resist smiling at her. "Just with rings. Just more together. Just better than before."_

_ "I like the sound of that," she replies with a smile._

_ "Me too," he replies as she leans forward to kiss him lovingly._

. . .

"It was a wonderful dream," she whispers to herself again, staring at her glass of water. The surface is interrupted a second later, a loud _plop _sounding in the room as a drop of water breaks the surface of the glass. Lexie closes her eyes, taking a breath, and tries to ignore the fact that she's crying over a dream.

_It's just a dream. It's not real. It's just a dream._

As she dumps the remaining liquid down the sink's drain an impatient second later, and sets the glass out to dry, Lexie realizes why waking up from that dream bothered her so much—why she was so cold and worried. She knows now that if she'd stayed asleep, she could have pretended for a little while longer. If she hadn't awoken, she could have lived through something she knew was no longer attainable. And if she lived in that dream, it could have been real.

Lexie covers her mouth at the thought, feeling tears on her face but not bothering to wipe them away. And she whispers to herself the honest truth again.

"It could have been real."

. . .

_You and I… are so entwined_

_I always knew… that I was made for you_

. . .

For the first time in what seems like weeks but must have only been days, Lexie catches Mark's eye across the surgical hallway. Their eyes lock for a split-second, and then memories crash through, just as they do everyday now. She blinks, and it's as if she's dying for a moment—all the best parts of her life with him flash through her eyes. She savors that second, and when her eyes open again, he's talking with one of the pretty blonde nurses that seem to populate his vicinity at all times these days.

She looks back down, reluctantly resuming her conversation with Jackson without him having even noticed she'd forgotten what they were speaking about. And then she's dying again as she hears his quiet laughter while knowing she isn't the reason for his happiness anymore. She swallows, looking forward and trying to listen to the man beside her. Just as she's walking through the double doors, she looks over her shoulder—casually, as if she were checking that there was someone she needed to hold the door for—and her eyes meet his again, just as she hoped they would.

His face is devoid of emotion when her eyes fall on his, but a split-second later, she sees his lips curve just the smallest amount, forming just the tiniest smile. Surprised and relieved, she smiles back, and ends up holding the door for much longer than would be appropriate, considering there's no one behind her. She can't bring herself to care, though, not when his eyes are on hers and there's the most beautiful and understated smile hiding just beneath his skin. Just for her.

But then Jackson calls her name, wondering why she's lagging behind, and her head snaps forward. As it does, her eyes remain—as always—with his, and she watches as the secret smile disappears. She turns her head fully away from him, calling to Jackson that she's coming, but by the time she looks back over to catch his eye again—he's gone.

Yet his smile remains in her mind. Along with everything else they've shared, it remains.

But she wishes she had one second more to stare at it, to memorize the shape of it… But she knows that's just an excuse for more time with him on a clock that ran out weeks ago. They both know neither of them has any time left together.

Even if she didn't have a photographic memory, Lexie knows each and every contour of his face is frozen, locked away within her mind, in that one perfect smile. She feels her low-flying spirit lift and soar for just a moment, with the knowledge that she can access that memory anytime she wants. She can relive their time together anytime she wants.

She can live in the past and fail to move forward. She can stay stuck on him.

For she knows, deeply and truthfully, that she'll never lose these memories or these feelings. They won't lessen, they won't dim, and yet they'll stay forever hidden within her mind, within a place no one but him can touch.

So she'll keep them as she keeps him, buried, hidden, and locked away for a rainy day. Locked away until the day she can summon the courage to find the key, if that day ever comes.

She has her memories, though, to keep her warm, and that will have to be enough for now. She only hopes he has them too, and hasn't forgotten what was once between them, what is still between them, and what will probably never fade.

. . .

_You and I_

_are __**so **__**entwined**__._

_I always knew_

_that I was made_

_**for you.**_

_**. . .**_

_Author's Note: I wrote this sort of hurriedly, through my three study halls today, but I hope you liked it. Please review! I LOVE hearing what you guys think :)_


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